Small Hands
by roodwook
Summary: Sometimes, on the way to a dream, you get lost and find another one. Fluff. Not epilogue compliant. Slight Harry-bashing. It isn't the path any of them thought they would take. But what does it matter if you're happy?


Ginny pushed open the gate to the cottage, letting it swing gently behind her as she made her way up the grassy path to the front door. She knocked gently, looking back over her shoulder at the rolling hills that encompassed the cottage. She was struck suddenly by how strange her life was; five years ago, she thought she would be married happily with Harry in a big house in London, with a kid on the way and her life settled. It was strange how different things could end up.

Harry and Hermione had left straight to go to London, basking in their glory as the golden trio that had triumphed over evil and defeated Voldemort. Ginny, however, had gone back to Hogwarts, remaining in the place where her brother died, without any glory, or recognition – just a lot of bad memories and the vague sense she was being forgotten.

She had quickly lost touch with Harry. He seemed frustrated that she wasn't able to move on, and that he tethered her to Hogwarts while he had been fast tracked by the Auror service. They had just kind of faded into nothingness as Ginny felt more and more left behind. Last she heard, Harry was dating some girl from the Auror service, too, and enjoying spending his Gringotts fortune. Ginny didn't begrudge him any of it; she knew how difficult his life had been so far; she just needed someone who could appreciate that it had been difficult for everyone else, too.

Hermione rang every once in a while; she was in her element in the bustling streets of London, and was happy to tell Ginny about how her new Creature Rights Advancement organisation was going, and all the new acquaintances she'd met, and all about the parties and the meet-ups she'd been to. Ginny had seen her photograph scattered in the Daily Prophet; photo after photo of her dressed elegantly and sophisticatedly, hair sleeked back, eyes full of promise. Ginny was happy that Hermione was still constant in her life, but she always felt a niggling feeling of sadness whenever she heard of Hermione's success.

The person that had become her rock was Ron. Ron, steady, dependable, always the same. Whenever she saw him he still stuffed his face, and got confused whenever anyone talked about emotion, and squeamish every time someone talked about relationship. Every time she saw her brother, laughing and making jokes and being characteristically confused, she got a little warmth in her chest, like it was all going to be ok. Ron had gone out to join his brother, Charlie, in Bulgaria for a while, saying he needed some space to deal with what had happened. He worked with Thestrals while months turned into years, and he returned back as cheerful as ever every holiday.

Ginny? Well, she hadn't quite reached her future yet. The war left her scared and shaken up, especially since she'd lost one of her big brothers and nearly been killed up close and personal by Bellatrix. She'd returned to Hogwarts the only surviving one in her year that had seen the war, the others having been evacuated or lost, and she'd felt alone and like her path, which had always seen so clear, had now faded into nothing.

So, she'd moved into this small cottage with Luna, apparated to Quidditch training a couple of days a week, and spent the rest of the time pottering around the house, trying to string the threads of her life back together. Luna was a freelance journalist working from home, so Ginny always had her to turn to if she needed it.

Luna opened the door, smiling at her with a radiant, peaceful face that melted Ginny's worries away. The smell of banana bread wafted to Ginny's nostrils and she sniffed appreciatedly, stepping into the hallway and going to take her shoes off.

Luna shook her head. "Come," she said, beckoning Ginny to follow behind her as she loped gracefully through the cottage to outside, seizing a raw steak as she went. Ginny thought this was slightly odd, but years of living with Luna had made the bizarre seem almost ordinary.

They went through to the garden, sat down on the swing seat, and Ginny waited as Luna made a series of shrill, high pitched shrieks. They waited for a while, Ginny's feet lightly grazing the ground as they swung, Luna's stretched out in front of her, gently running along the ground every so often.

The reason for the steak and the shrieks all became clear soon. A tiny Thestral ran from out of the bushes, running clumsily on its young feet, jumping up onto Luna's lap and licking contentedly at the steak.

Ginny was lost for words. Tears began filling up her eyes as she thought of the people she'd lost, the lives she'd seen ended, the reason she could see this creature curled up in Luna's lap, making soft snorts of contentment.

"Luna..." she began, not sure where she was going.

"Shhh," Luna whispered, transferring the baby and steak to Ginny's lap, and bringing her arm around her. Ginny felt like her heart was breaking, but also a bit like her heart was being repaired, with the feeling of a solid arm around her and a heart beating next to her and a life growing in her lap and maybe, maybe, this happiness business was easier than people made out.

Ginny had never met someone with so much substance and passion and mystery within them. Luna painted their bedroom when they decided to move in to the same room, because of Ginny's nightmares. She painted the hills, she painted the cello Ginny liked to play when she was having one of her difficult times, she painted the stars and the baby Thestral (now called Reuben), she painted Ron and Ginny and herself and Neville and all the people they loved.

It occurred to Harry one night, as she lay asleep with Luna breathing evenly next to her, that she didn't even have to ask who to paint.

One night at the Burrow, where the family had gathered to celebrate Ron moving back from Bulgaria, Ginny and Ron sat in the living room, gazing into the fire. The rest of the family had gathered outside in the night to watch the fireworks George had set off to celebrate. Ginny had left quietly, with sympathetic murmurings that she thought were accusing her of not being over it when she should be. And maybe that was true, but she had stood outside and watched the fireworks being lit and something had squeezed her chest and made it hard to breath and impossible to endure.

Ron had come back in to comfort her. Of course he had. He had been the one person in the Golden Trio to be overlooked, forgotten, the one who never seemed to offer enough. The one that had abandoned his friends. Ginny new that these thoughts were going through his head every day, and she didn't even have to ask to confirm them. It was like they were speaking a language that nobody else could decipher, but that they were born knowing.

"You didn't bring Luna," he commented, after a long period of silence.

Ginny looked at him curiously.

"She's like family, Gin," he said. "You live with her."

"She's my roommate."

"No," Ron disagreed. "She's permanent. You've adopted a baby thestral. You live in the same room. Which you've painted with pictures of each other. You live in a cottage and cook each other meals. You bring back every edition of The Prophet in case she's in there, because you know she won't mention it if she is. You've got a life with her, Ginny." It seemed he had broken down a bridge, because the words kept flowing, kept slipping out easily, as if he had been aching to say them. "It may not be the life you thought you'd have. Believe me, Gin, I thought I would end up with Hermione, working alongside Harry in the Auror department, visiting Fred and George's shop every day. Instead I went to Bulgaria and worked with Thestrals, and I thought it was a part time thing, but it's become my life, my passion, something a care about and love, and it doesn't matter if it's not what you think it should be."

"Why did you come back to England, then?" Ginny asked.

Ron fidgeted and avoided her eyes. "I fell in love with a boy I used to hate. But now he completes me. He makes me feel special, makes me feel alive. Makes me feel like I'm real and breathing and lucky."

"Luna makes me feel like I'm home," Ginny muttered to herself.

Ron smiled at her. "Draco does too, the prick." He laughed to himself and pulled Ginny into a one armed hug, squeezing her tight.

Ginny didn't feel the need to comment on this new information. They'd all strayed off their paths as much as possible, and she knew the feeling Ron was describing. She felt it when she was in the garden playing with Reuben and Luna, when she spotted Luna in her study, papers flooding over her desk onto the floor, when she laughed and helped her clean it up, when Luna had taught her the constellations ("since I am named after the moon") and made her banana and grapefruit pancakes in the morning when she was exhausted from Quidditch practice. So what if it was the ferret that made Ron feel like that? All this time, Ginny had been measuring her success by her career, and the amount of friends she had, and the events she went to, but it all faded into insignificance really. When you thought about it hard.

"I'm not even lesbian," she told Ron.

"You don't have to be," Ron replied. "You don't fall in love with someone's body. You fall in love with their heart, and their soul, and their smile."

Ginny realised she might be a teeny bit in love with Luna not long after that. She was walking around the house on her own (Luna had gone grocery shopping), and then she realised that whenever she thought of Luna she smiled, and that this felt like her home and her future.

When Luna came home, Ginny hugged her and sobbed against her silky dress, and told her everything.

Luna kissed the top of her head, and wove her arms around Ginny's, and Ginny felt the most lucky girl in the world.

They were laying in bed together, Ginny's head resting on Luna's chest, feeling the steady thumping of a heartbeat that wasn't her own, and her fingers tracing down the soft skin of Luna's wrist, when Luna's hand suddenly grasped hers. Ginny looked up to see Luna's grey eyes staring down into her green ones.

"I want you to be better."

"I am," Ginny replied, and suddenly she realised she was. She had a future now. She had a path. She had friends and brothers and a pet Thestral and a cottage and the most beautiful woman in the world. "Because of you."

Luna shook her head and kissed her fingers. "It's because of you, Ginny."

The next day, Ginny walked into George's shop and requested a special delivery of fireworks.

"I can't believe he's ready to go," Ginny said softly, looking at Reuben towering over them.

Luna hugged her from behind. "I know, me neither," she said. "Doesn't feel like fifteen years."

Ginny nodded her head in agreement. Ginny had completed her life achievements in those years, she thought. Her team won a Quidditch cup. She and Luna had got married, with the most lovely circle of people she could think of invited, and with a thestral-drawn carriage. She had watched Ron and Draco welcome a child into the world, and laughed as Draco told stories about combusting nappies and baby bath incidents at the family dinner table. She had joined an orchestra, watched Luna plant enough trees to make a forest on the plain, visited Fred's grave, watched her nieces and nephews (of which there were many) grow up. She'd visited a mind healer, fostered animals Hermione had been overwhelmed with, and now, at 35, she could look back at her life with happiness.

Reuben had all that still to go.

Well.

He was a threstral, so pretty much all he'd do would be eat and mate, but still.

It felt incredibly symbolic.

"I can't believe we made it here," Ginny whispered.

Luna snorted. "Made it to here? Ginny, I still have over half my life left with you. Imagine where we'll be at the finish line."

Ginny smiled up at the sky. "I don't want to."

AN: This fic was really enlightening to write. I spent 3 months in a psychiatric hospital, and I had to drop my A Levels, and I felt like Ginny; struggling to even walk while I'm watching everyone else run. All my friends are on fast tracks to their future, and I'm lagging behind.

If this is how you feel, just remember happiness isn't quantifiable.


End file.
